Nightmares
by Crinklybrownleaves
Summary: All my (unfinished) stories at the moment seem to involve getting them into bed, in a non-smutty way of course! This is the only one I've managed to finish. I think it's a bit long, and for that I apologise in advance.


Almost from the first, Jean and Mattie knew about his nightmares. At least once a week they would hear him shouting in the dark, rarely words they could understand, the cries of a frightened boy, until eventually he woke, and they heard him walking around downstairs.

To start with neither of the women spoke about what they heard, to each other or to Lucien, but on one particularly bad night, they met on the upstairs landing, both unsure what to do, still wrapping their dressing gowns around themselves.

"Should we wake him?" Mattie suggested in a whisper.

"Maybe. But we can't go into his room, can we?" Jean replied. Mattie took her hand.

'"We could knock on the door though. We can't just leave him like this."

So they went together, and knocked on the door until the shouting stopped. Lucien opened the door a moment later and looked confused to see them both there.

"Did I wake you?" he asked. Mattie nodded. Jean was looking closely at him, frowning at the sweat in his hair and the look of confusion he still had on his face. "I must have had a nightmare. I'm sorry," he continued. "I have them quite often."

Lucien noticed Jean staring and apologised again for waking them. He sent them back to bed and turned away from the door as he closed it. Damn these nightmares. He had thought they were getting less frequent, but now he was waking the household.

He knew no way to stop them, except that drinking whisky sometimes made him sleep so deeply he didn't dream at all. He climbed back into bed, knowing he was unlikely to sleep again that night. He had hoped that coming back to Ballarat would help him forget the horrors in his past, but it didn't seem to be working.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Three months later and the nightmares were back with a vengeance. Now, instead of being every few nights, most nights were filled with cries and shouts.

He knew they had got worse after the climb down into the old gold mine, and again after the night he spent drunk in the cells. He knew quite well that small spaces would always set off the dreams, but the dreams themselves were a jumbled mix of beatings and watching men die.

During the day time he could be positive and determined, but at night he was taken back twenty years, to a time when he had no control over his life or anyone else's, and death was always nearby.

Mattie and Jean had settled almost into a routine. One or other of them would go and knock on his door till he woke. Strangely, Danny never seemed to be woken by the nightmares, so it was the women that Lucien found himself apologising to night after night. And he was drinking too much again.

Eventually Jean had to ask him. "Are we doing the right thing by waking you?"

He nodded slowly. "Yes, I think so. Once I've woken up I'm usually alright. I'm just sorry to disturb you."

She smiled, that gentle smile he was growing fond of. "I don't mind." She didn't say anything more, just touched his arm in sympathy.

After that it was always Jean who woke him. She had started sending Mattie back to bed, telling her she needed her sleep.

And occasionally when he woke, shaking with fear and disorientated, Jean made them both a cup of tea, and they sat at the kitchen table drinking it, waiting for him to calm down.

Sometimes Jean chatted away, trying to distract him, sometimes they sat in an easy silence. Eventually she would stand and wish him goodnight, touching him on the shoulder as she went.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Charlie moved in, Mattie told him about the nightmares. She said he had better do nothing, leaving it to Jean, and he did. He often heard Jean's footsteps coming down the stairs to answer the cries, then her hurrying back up later, and he would turn over then and sleep again.

As Lucien and Jean grew closer, she started almost to look forward to the quiet moments in the kitchen, a little bit of private time between them. Not that she wanted him to suffer the nightmares of course, but she was pleased that he let her share their aftermath.

She would smooth his damp hair, making it look like a practical gesture, but they both knew it was more than that, she was offering sympathy, love even, in a way she rarely dared to do otherwise.

As they sat in their pyjamas in the cosiness of the kitchen, there was an intimacy in their moments over the teacups that was only hinted at during the daytime.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

When they came back from Adelaide, Jean tried a different approach. Now she knew how he felt about her, she was a little more secure with him. One night when he cried out, she opened his bedroom door without knocking and looked round the edge of the door. He was moving restlessly in the bed, with the covers tangled and a sheen of sweat on his face.

She crept across the room and crouched by the side of the bed, meaning to speak to him and wake him. But instead, she smoothed the frown lines between his eyes with her fingers and whispered to him.

"It's alright," she murmured, trying to soothe him with her voice, repeating the words until he started to quieten a little. Gradually he settled down, without waking, and Jean continued to stroke his face gently.

Finally she kissed his cheek and stood up, stretching her aching calves, and she stood for a moment watching him sleep, feeling tenderness towards the man she loved so much.

After that night she usually did not wake him up at all, but instead managed to reassure him with her voice and hands while he still slept.

She was not sure whether he was aware of what she was doing, until one morning he remarked that he didn't seem to be having any nightmares. Jean just nodded, and said, "Well, that's good news."

Charlie glanced at her sharply. He knew the nightmares were just as frequent. So why did Lucien not realise that? Jean looked at Charlie and shook her head very slightly.

Even after Mei Lin's arrival, Jean carried on as before. Now, this was the only time she let herself touch him. Those few minutes in the night, when she spoke to him and reassured him, were the only moments when she chose to ignore the fact he was married to Mei Lin.

While he was asleep, she could pretend nothing had changed between them. She needed him now as much as he needed her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Two nights after Mei Lin left, Jean knelt beside Lucien, whispering reassurance to him as usual. Her feet were cold and she was tired, worn out by the stress of recent weeks. As Lucien writhed and called out, she sighed and gave in to the temptation that had been troubling her for weeks.

She walked around the bed and lay down next to him, sliding under the covers. She wrapped her arm around him and spoke quietly into his ear. Gradually he started breathing more slowly, and soon he was lying quietly asleep.

Jean kissed him very softly on the cheek, hoping he would not wake, and then slipped out of the bed, and went back upstairs, closing his door quietly as she went.

After this, she found herself climbing into his bed once or twice a week, whenever the nightmares came. Jean knew that she was taking a risk. If he ever woke, she would find it hard to explain why she was in his bed. But those few minutes in the darkness had become very precious to her; a consolation while she could not be with him openly.

Until the divorce came through, they had to be careful that their relationship was not publicly known about, and so even in the house, in front of Charlie, they were wary of showing too much affection.

But Jean would not willingly give up her time with Lucien, in the warmth of his bed, even if he was not aware of what she was doing.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Of course, eventually it happened. Jean fell asleep.

Lucien woke early the next morning to find Jean's hand resting on his chest, as she lay on her side next to him. He moved his head carefully, anxious not to wake her, but curious as to what was going on.

She was wearing her pyjamas and dressing gown, so he guessed she had not meant to stay all night. But what brought her there in the first place? He certainly wasn't complaining, but this didn't seem like the sort of thing Jean would do. She was always so careful to avoid gossip.

For a few minutes, Lucien lay still and concentrated on enjoying the scent of Jean's hair, listening to her steady breathing, and feeling the warmth of her legs lying against his side.

Gradually he realised they would have to move before Charlie woke up. Lucien couldn't see his watch without moving Jean, but he guessed from the increasing daylight that he would have to wake her soon.

He took hold of the hand she had left on his chest, and lifted it to his mouth. Kissing the back of her hand, he stroked her palm with his thumb. Her eyelids fluttered open and Lucien watched as she became aware, and then as a look of horror crossed her face.

He continued to hold her hand, and murmured to her, "It's alright, it's alright. But it's nearly time to get up, Jean."

She propped herself up on her elbow and looked at him, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Lucien, I didn't mean to fall asleep. You weren't supposed to know."

"Supposed to know what?" He looked a little alarmed at that.

"About the nightmares. Whenever you have a nightmare, I've been coming in and..." She looked crestfallen. How could she say she'd been coming and getting into bed with him?

"Right...I thought the nightmares had stopped. I don't remember having any recently." Lucien looked puzzled.

"You're still having them, but I discovered I don't have to wake you to calm you down. I'm sorry, I must have fallen asleep."

Lucien laughed. "I'm not sure why you're sorry though. It sounds as though I should be apologising for waking you up shouting. And I'm certainly not objecting to this!" He gestured at the two of them lying together, and kissed her cheek.

" I'm sorry that I didn't tell you though. What do we do now?"

"For now, you need to go back to your room before Charlie gets up. After that, it's up to you. You could wake me, ignore me, or carry on like this. Up to you." He rather cheekily raised an eyebrow at her, and to his relief, she laughed.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was about six weeks later that Charlie spoke up. He stopped the doctor in the hallway, and dropped his voice to a murmur. "Could you tell Mrs Beazley that I never wake before seven, and even then, I make a point of not noticing anything before breakfast."

For once, Lucien was lost for words.


End file.
